Found
by jansonpls
Summary: Owen and Beru Lars' last moments... Damn stormtroopers!


*got the idea for this after reading the Lars' entry in the SW encyclopaedia

*I don't own Owen or Beru Lars

*or, um, stormtroopers

~~

"Luke's been gone a while… Do you think he's alright?"

Owen looked up from his plate at his wife in mild surprise, then snorted with a short, humourless laugh. "He'll have found that droid hours ago. You know where he'll be, up at that blasted power station with his friends. He'll be back for dinner."

Beru wasn't convinced. It wasn't like Luke to simply stay out all day; he would always return and tell them if his plans changed. And besides… "I don't know. When I was out at the vaporators earlier, I thought I heard a couple Krayt dragons, right where he was headed."

"Just your imagination," Owen dismissed. "And you know that kid; if there were dragons, and he ran into one, he'd not only manage to escape unhurt but would probably kill it in the process." His tone was not admiring, but dark and annoyed.

Beru shook her head in exasperation, and went back to eating her lunch. True; Luke had always had an extraordinary amount of luck. But luck wasn't something you could rely on, and when it came from something more than luck… "Really, Owen, we're going to have to tell him one day."

"No, we don't ever have to tell him. He'll be fine; moisture farmers don't need any of that nonsense."

"But he's determined to go the Academy. If he goes…"

She didn't need to finish the sentence. Owen knew well enough. If Luke went to the Academy, then he would be found. They had to protect him somehow.

"Telling him won't change that. He'd be even more determined to go, with some stupid idea in his head. No. We won't tell him. Not yet."

Beru sighed, and looked outside through the window, her gaze resting on a sand dune in the distance. Something caught her eye and she squinted to try and see it better. "Owen? Do you see that?"

Owen leaned over and looked out. "Looks like Luke's back, then. He better have those droids with him."

"It's too big to be Luke's speeder, though… And it's heading this way." Beru was suddenly struck by fear. Something was coming, something big, and she had no idea what it was.

"Maybe it's a crawler…" But Owen was not convinced, and his own voice had an underlying tone of fear, as well.

"They've found us…" Beru's voice was a shaking whisper.

Owen shook his head. "No. There's no reason for them to even think of looking here; Kenobi said it, and that's one thing I agree with him on. Maybe it's just someone from Mos Eisley or Mos Espa. Raiders, maybe."

The vehicle grew larger as it approached. It was too fast to be a crawler; too big to be a speeder. Beru tried to see what it was, tried to compare it in her head to all the atmosphere vehicles she knew, but it matched no description.

Owen stood up suddenly and walked over to a cupboard in the kitchen. He opened it and pulled out a secret compartment. Blasters. He grabbed one, and tossed one to Beru. "Imperials," he said, not looking at her.

"So they _have_ found us…"

"No! It has to be something else; something different. But – keep the blaster on kill. Just in case."

Beru tightened her grip on the blaster, its feel uncomfortable in her hand. She knew how to use one, of course, and she could aim well enough… But actually using it was another matter. She hoped it didn't come to that; that there was a perfectly innocent explanation.

All too soon, the large airspeeder was only a hundred meters away, slowing down and coming to a full halt. It was close enough that Beru could see the stormtroopers inside, their white armour gleaming in the fierce light of Tatooine's suns. 

"Stay here…" Owen walked cautiously over to the door, his blaster held high and ready. Suddenly, the door was kicked open and a squad of troopers filed in, ignoring Owen. The squad leader came in behind them and Owen aimed his blaster, but didn't shoot.

"You're Owen and Beru Lars?"

"Yes." Owen held the blaster steady. "Why are you here?"

"We're looking for two droids. They were stolen from us a short time ago and we need them back."

Not good. Owen knew that this was not good. Something to do with that blasted Kenobi, no doubt. Well, Owen didn't like the guy much, but he was no traitor. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"We traced the droids from the group of Jawas to your farm. We know they're here. It'll be easier for you in the long run if you cooperate now."

Like blast it would, he thought. He'd liked those Jawas, as much as anyone could like any Jawas. They were good merchants. "The only droids we have here are a couple of old gonks, and an old, broken down pit droid. Is that what you're looking for? We've had them for years."

The stormtrooper took a step forward and Owen raised his blaster. The trooper paused for a moment. "Put down your weapon. You're outnumbered, and there's another squad outside. The odds are against you here."

Owen laughed shortly. "Odds? I don't care about the odds. I care about what's right."

"Cooperate, and you may live to care another day."

"I don't think so."

"Tell us where the droids are. If you don't, we'll kill you and find them anyway."

"So kill me."

The stormtrooper hesitated, then flicked his hand to indicate to the squad waiting outside. "They can't have gone far – they're not designed for this kind of climate. Start searching the area." 

Owen noticed Beru out of the corner of his eye; the troopers still hadn't seen her. She had a determined look on her face, and her blaster was held in the same ready position as his own. He shook his head slightly – _don't shoot yet_. Yet.

The trooper turned his attention back to Owen. "Your lack of cooperation has been most undesirable. The Empire does not appreciate displays such as this." He turned to his squad. "Fire on-"

Owen didn't let him finish. Fixing on a part of the armour he'd been told was weak, he squeezed out a shot, switching aim quickly to a trooper in the squad. This time, the shot reflected, bouncing into the walls, and the trooper fired back.

Beru let out a scream as Owen collapsed, his hand clutching a blaster wound in his stomach. The squad turned to her and she fired randomly, dropping one trooper by pure chance. But the blaster fire from all the troopers combined was too much, and she went down, still firing, still fighting.

Owen's vision was darkening as shot after shot pounded him, and he tried to smile ruefully as his life flashed before his eyes. Those blasted Skywalkers. 

One last shot found his heart, and in its final beat, his last thoughts echoed through his mind.

Those droids had better be important.

Love you, Beru.

And it might just have been his imagination, but another thought lodged itself firmly in place beside the last.

Love you, Owen.


End file.
